Mosaic
by pinksnowboots
Summary: Nobody, least of all Denmark and Norway themselves, knew how they got along so effortlessly despite how drastically different they were.    DenNor drabbles, may be continued. Only rated T for potential continuation, there's nothing T in it currently.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys. I'm so sorry I haven't updated in a while. I've been on vacation, which means I've either been without internet access or with my family, meaning no time to write fanfics. I'm going to try to update Camera Confessions soon and maybe come up with another little drabble for Reverberations, but today I was in a Nordic mood. Specifically, DenNor. I'm not really satisfied with the DenNor fics out there. There are some fantastic fics, but some (in my humble opinion), distort the characterizations (from the way I interpret them) and make the stories tragic or unrealistic. So I just started writing a drabble about the history of Denmark and Norway and how they kind of just fit in some strange way. I used fanon names in this. Matthias is Denmark and Aleksander is Norway.

I'm considering writing more specific DenNor drabbles, maybe about certain events or their later history and adding them to this story in new chapter to make it a collection. If you think that I should, please leave me a review and tell me. I will be more inclined to do so if people are interested.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I am simply appropriating the characters for my own enjoyment. Sorry.

I hope this makes sense (I wrote it at 1 AM-ish) and I hope you enjoy it. Please drop me a review about opinions, questions, suggestions, mistakes, etc.

Enjoy!

* * *

No one ever accused them of being similar. In fact, no one could understand how the two managed to stand each other's presence at all, they were so different. One was brash and unfiltered, rugged and obviously handsome. Whenever he stepped into a room, he made an entrance, whether it be dramatic or foolish or breathtaking. The other was outwardly delicate but mentally resilient, possessing beauty of a more feminine nature, his wisdom often overlooked due to his outer coldness. He was often overlooked or deliberately ignored because of his prickly nature, which was almost omnipresent. Almost.

Besides simply sharing a region, Denmark and Norway shared a special bond. In the spectrum of all possible ill matched personality traits, theirs was a distortion which somehow created a precarious fit. Aleksander put on a rather spectacular defense of scathing sarcasm and feigned detachment which only the cheerful social ignorance of the Dane could match. Matthias' determination in persistently caring about the Norwegian was one of the few forces to ever crack Aleks' cool facade.

They had known each other from the days of rape and pillaging, where Matthias had led the way, battle ax blazing, while Aleks would only give in to his secret battle lust in the shadow of the Dane's sheer exuberance, quietly incapacitating enemies and innocents and plundering only artifacts of great value or aesthetic appeal, slipping them into the Dane's personal stash unnoticed. Denmark would puzzle over these unknown presents and treasure the pieces Norway left for him, keeping them in a small chest at the foot of his bed. Throughout his reign as the terror of the Northern seas, Matthias' trove swelled with everything from trinkets to tiny treasures of high value, but he never guessed that his Norway was the anonymous benefactor. Aleks was normally so reserved and would never hand out praise, let alone gifts, if they were not very well deserved. He always seemed especially loathe to encourage the Dane, who was not wanting for admiration, but always seemed to like Norway's compliments the best.

Matthias was not one for subtlety socially or on the battlefield. He always led the charge with his men despite Aleks' warnings. Norway would always worry about the headstrong Viking as he recklessly jumped into conflict and took to quickly rubbing his cross hairpin, a gift from said reckless Dane, before they went into battle. He never told Matthias that he was worried, but watched and was the first to be ready ready with bandages and chastisements whenever the Dane came limping back, bloody and bruised but always victorious, usually carrying some prize from the raid which he would proudly present to Norway. He would look down into the smaller man's face, innocently begging for praise and approval, which was always given with a slight blush, a muttered insult and a grudging acceptance of the hard earned gift. Both men's favorite object was Norway's delicate cross hairpin which fell just shy of being overtly feminine. Rather, it looked dignified and uniquely fitting on Aleks. After the battle where Matthias had won it, he was so badly hurt that he collapsed unconscious back on their ship. He woke to Norway fretting over his bedside, and after he had endured the necessary scolding, had reached up and carefully pinned his prize onto a soft blonde lock of Aleks' hair. The Norwegian had stopped, confused, and raised his hand to the trinket, deliberately inspecting it before uncomfortably saying "Thank you." This was the first time that Norway had ever thanked Denmark explicitly, audibly, and without qualifications; Matthias' smile was so wide, it hurt his jaw. Every day after that, when he saw the familiar hairpin in his friend's hair, he would smile at his small but significant victory.

Eventually the men's relationship changed from that of uneasily close friends to lovers. The attraction had always been present, but neither wanted to upset the delicate balance that was their lives. The change happened initially by accident, like an unexplainable occurrence of nature, but once that fundamental shift had been triggered, the transition went fairly smoothly. The difficulties were more physical as they tried to fit into the traditional relationship paradigm, but they still complemented each others' personalities, even as they struggled to realize that their was no mold to fit their strange partnership. Once they realized that they did not need to be typical, it simply feel to acting upon the affection which had always been present. Matthias became the only person allowed to take off Aleks' precious hair clip, as he was the one who always fastened it back on as he had the very first time. Denmark's seemingly untamed strength and passion was always tempered almost imperceptibly by Norway's calm, which drew out a gentleness which was seldom seen. They never ceased bickering over silly things, but the underlying tone of tenderness and affection which had always been there was finally acknowledged and given a name: love. It was a strange kind of love which most others were confounded by. In fact, even the two lovers themselves sometimes had no clue. Despite how radically different they were, they coexisted not only peacefully but blissfully, differences meshing and grating in a way that somehow made them inexplicably and unexplainably happy.


	2. Affection

Well, I don't really have much to say about this. It's kind of pointless fluff, and maybe a smidgeon incoherent. But I needed to get something written just to get the juices flowing, so to speak, and I was in a DenNor mood. Nothing to be warned about, really. Just read, and if you like it, review. If you don't, then that's your choice, and I respect it. So yeah. I don't really have much more to say.

Oh wait, I do have something to say. Why the hell did I make Norway's name Aleksander? It's way more annoying to type than Lukas, and the spellcheck keeps bugging me about it. Annoyance.

Ok, that's all. For real this time.

* * *

Aleksander had always thought that love made people do idiotic things. It wasn't that he was against the principle as a whole, but the way that it made otherwise sane people behave. There were examples from almost all the nations. Sweden and Finland, for example. Tino had always been peppy and overly affectionate, but anything that could make Berwald mumble out endearments like "m'wife" had to be some sort of witchcraft. To see the intimidating nation look so _domestic_ was downright disconcerting. And domestic they were-a man, his "wife," a kid (Sealand, the little brat), and a dog with some ridiculous name. It was practically a nuclear family, with some slight, but significant variations.

It wasn't just Sweden and Finland either. Though the incessant chirps of pet names like Su-san and Sve from his geographical neighbors were annoying, they were not by any means the worst. America was horrid about public displays of affection, and England, for all his bluster about being a gentleman, had been spotted in several suggestive positions with Alfred when he thought he was in private. Feliciano and Antonio practically embodied embarrassing displays of affection, much to the chagrin of Ludwig and Romano, respectively. Even Prussia, who was the very definition of uncouth, had taken to pulling out Hungary's chair at meetings and whispering sweet (and potentially lecherous) nothings to her while Austria was speaking. But the most infuriating, victim of this _epidemic_ of affection had been none other than his own brother. Iceland had met an Asian nation, Hong Kong, who could match his levels of silence, stubbornness, and sarcasm and after a long period of bickering and volcanic eruptions, they had finally converged. Although the fighting had been troublesome, Aleks honestly would have preferred it to hearing his typically emotionless brother _giggle_.

Yes, Aleksander was a judgmental person, and couples received some of the harshest of his judgment for their inane actions when around their significant other. He usually shared his scathing commentary with his brother, who held such actions in similar disdain, but once Tyr became scarily affectionate with his boyfriend, Aleks was left with no one to complain to but Matthias. And complaining to Matthias was more than counterproductive, it was downright hypocritical. As much as he professed to disdain displays of affection, especially public, Norway actually allowed and secretly enjoyed such actions when they were given by one Matthias Kohler.

Nobody really understood it, least of all Norway and Denmark. Aleks had no clue why he let the Dane get away with so much, and neither did Matthias. But incredulity was a common emotion for Denmark, and he ignored it in favor of counting his lucky stars that he was the _only_person who ever got to see Norway in a vulnerable or affectionate state, even if it was only in the privacy of his (their) home.

In private, both countries tended to mellow. Matthias became less talkative and brash, and Aleksander's comments lost their biting edge. It was a side of the two that they really only ever shared with each other. And in quiet, private moments, Norway forgot the reasons for his intense resentment of couples.

When they touched, it was different than any outsider might imagine it. Denmark was uncharacteristically gentle, skimming his fingers along the inside of Norway's wrist, or brushing his hair back from his eyes. He did unbearably corny things like kiss every finger of Aleksander's hand. While Aleks would typically scoff at such ideas, the tenderness and uncharacteristic reserve Matthias employed made him react in horribly cliché ways, a fluttering of the stomach or tingles of the skin.

While Denmark was gentle, Norway was fierce. It fit their relationship, in a way. Matthias was always cheerful and earnest, while Aleks was sharp and withdrawn. It stood to reason that, once cornered, he would fight like a wildcat. And he did. He left marks in shockingly visible places and kissed with a ferocity which he almost never employed in public. While others may have found it disconcerting, Matthias found it beautiful.

But the definitions were fluid. Norway could be sedate, and Denmark could be rough. But that wasn't the point. The point was, that however cold Aleksander was in public to a hapless Matthias, it couldn't erase the significance of a concealed intertwining of fingers under the table, the gentle stroke of hair and cheek, the arm draped loosely, but possessively, around the Norwegian's slim waist.

Norway still scorned public displays of affection, and the idiocy of new couples. But he grudgingly admitted (only to Matthias) that he might not mind them so much in private.


	3. Cliches

Wonderful people. As you probably know, I recently pulled a very obnoxious stunt in a desperate attempt for reviews. Somehow, my shameless whoring worked, and I got many wonderful responses to this story. I want to thank everyone who has reviewed this story, if I haven't already replied to you. I adore you all, and hope that this addition will not disappoint.

About this chapter-I was thinking about all the cliches about love and how untrue they tend to be, especially for odd couples like Denmark and Norway. These are a series of thoughts about how this relationship defies cliches. And in doing that, I do believe I used various other cliches, and inordinate amounts of fluff. I do apologize.

Rating: T, because I cannot stand writing a fic without curse words and oblique references to sex.

Genre: Mostly pure fluff, with hints of angst, but not much really, so don't let that bother you.

Disclaimer: If I ran an anime series, it would collapse due to my lack of focus. Consider yourself lucky that I don't own Hetalia.

As always, I adore reviewed, and will shamelessly grovel at your feet if you leave me a note. You will probably get a PM back and some random and spastic thanks. If that kind of thing appeals to you, please review. Or you know, if you like the story.

Much love, and please enjoy! 

* * *

Neither of them could stand clichés. While Denmark was prone to doing ridiculously sweet things, and Norway was susceptible to blushing at them, they could not stand the trappings that came along with typical "love stories." When you've been alive for hundreds of years, you realize that such an elusive thing as love cannot be quantified and captured in so many poems, quotes, and novels. While humans, in their short and reckless lifespans and infinite capacity for folly, had never stopped trying to define the nature of love, Denmark and Norway had long since ceased giving value to such futile efforts. Besides, whenever someone came along with a new platitude, their relationship, which had statistically, lasted much longer than any of the ones these humans carried on, quickly and easily refuted it. 

* * *

"You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams."

-Dr. Seuss

Another thing that these humans seemed to go on and on about was the nature of dreams. Were they predictive, indicative of hopes or desires, or simply random neural impulses? Norway didn't know, and didn't particularly care. He did not dream of Mathias, except during their separation during his tenure as Sweden's property, and never had. Somehow, his subconscious rejected the idea of dreaming lustfully or even affectionately about his loved one. Before they were together, his dreams were of a decidedly mundane variety, and afterwards, it remained much the same. Reality and dreams were simply incomparable. But even after he and Mathias had been together for dozens of years, Aleks never seemed to succumb to Suess's saying. In fact, it was much easier to fall asleep in the arms, or even the presence, of his lover. Wakefulness was for new lovers who simply could not believe their good fortune at finally finding happiness. Sleeping soundly was much better, because he knew that Denmark would not be spirited away during his dreams, and his rest was a testament to the unspoken trust that when the morning came, his lover would still be there, much less perfect than a dream, but so much more tangible.

"For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul."

-Judy Garland

Mathias knew that his lover was not the most demonstrative person in his affection, even in private. As such, he treasured every gesture, every smile and brush of skin. Maybe this made him a hopeless romantic, but he didn't really care. Besides, if he were truly a romantic, he felt that he should agree more with Ms. Garland's musings, but in reality, they just made him laugh. The thought of whispering sweet nothings to someone's heart was all fine and good, but to imbue every show of affection with such significance was a tall order. And when you stay with someone for as long as only nations can, not every kiss can be one that sears the soul. When Mathias and Aleks kissed, it was simply a kiss-a meeting of lips, and not the soul. The physical affection was pleasant, and neither would deny that, but it was not the basis of their relationship, and most of their soul-sharing came in subtler forms. One of the things that delighted Denmark most about being able to kiss Norway was not the kiss itself, but the trust that Norway implicitly gave to him through that action. Every night they spent together was a reassurance that he was forgiven for the past, for his subjugation of Sweden and Finland and yes, Norway too. But all this was understood. He did not think of trust every time he kissed his lover. More often than not, his mind was on baser matters, and his heart and soul were not really active players. That is not to say that he didn't love Norway with his heart and soul, but that fact was so firmly established that it didn't need constant reiteration. They had survived the dungeons of World War II together, and much more besides. That cemented all the heart and soul stuff. It remained present, like a constant undercurrent to their relationship, a given. When Mathias whispered, it went to Aleks ears, and when they kissed, it was their lips that met, while their hearts and souls simply watched and smiled.

"Love means never having to say you're sorry."

-Love Story

Norway was not one to use crude language, but if he did, he would, in Denmark's words, 'call BS.' As a member of a multigenerational love story, he could attest that the ability and the willingness to say sorry was perhaps one of the most important foundations of a relationship. A heartfelt, 'I'm sorry' was one of the sweetest phrases he'd ever heard out of his lover, whether it was sheepishly muttered after tracking mud into their shared house or whispered in the middle of the night. Really, when you love someone, you're bound to fuck up sometimes, and saying sorry is the best way to show that you understand that you hurt the other person, and you can't stand it. Some couples tended to substitute 'I love you' for apologies, but personally, Aleks thought that doing that devalued both phrases. I love you should be an affirmation, not an apology, and even people in love should face consequences for their actions. Sometimes the terms could be used in tandem, but each in their own sphere. When Denmark and Norway had first reunited after Norway's forced stay with Sweden, it was all they could seem to say. Mathias composed symphonies composed solely of sorries and laid them at Aleks' feet. Only when he gained his bearings enough to look his lover in the eye did he say I love you, quietly and fearfully. And Aleks had whispered it back, a mantra of forgiveness. The flood of sorries ceased and was replaced by silent waves of gratitude as Denmark reverently caressed Norway's hand.

"I love you not because of who you are, but because of who I am when I am with you."

-Roy Croft

Personally, Mathias thought that Roy Croft must have been a very self-centered man to tell his lover that their relationship was based, not on him loving the other, but on him loving himself. Mathias did like himself better around Aleks, but he also liked himself less. He may be softer and kinder around the other man, but he also could see how obviously flawed he was. Norway's constant calm seemed to magnify Denmark's restless energy, and his lover's silence made his words echo all the louder. No, Mathias did not love Aleks because he loved himself, or even because Aleks loved him. He loved Aleks because Aleks was wonderful, and would be so regardless of what Mathias was. He would not and could not describe his lover in terms of himself, instead singing Norway's unique and singular praises which were purely his own. Aleks was witty, he was kind, and he was genuine when his emotions manifested themselves. Mathias loved the way his hair looked in the sunlight and how he fiddled with his hairpin when he was nervous. He adored the way that Aleks could cook perfectly well, but could just as easily yell at Mathias to get off his lazy ass and make dinner himself. He loved how Norway looked in an apron, how he looked in a sailor suit, a business suit, a bathing suit, or in nothing at all. Denmark loved Norway's laugh, and how rare it seemed to be. He loved Norway for being Norway, simply put. In regards to himself, he simply marveled that such a perfect creature could stand all of his imperfections and left it at that. Somehow, Norway must love who he was, and so he spent no more time agonizing over it.


End file.
